


A Heart With No Winter

by Draiochta



Category: Original Work
Genre: Canon Non-Binary Character, Devotee of the deity of winter, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 11:36:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21053750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draiochta/pseuds/Draiochta
Summary: Arri'o grows up in devotion to the goddess of winter. But when tragedy strikes, they lose their faith. This is a little ficlet of their journey. I was inspired by Molly's line in the Last Unicorn: "How dare you come to me when I am this? Where were you when I was new."Super not sure how to tag, fam.For Ti, because I love them.





	A Heart With No Winter

They were raised in the service of the goddess of winter. 

They spent their early childhood drawing holy symbols in the snow and saying childish prayers of thanks at the touch of every frost. They had parents that loved them and raised them in laughter and song. 

And then the abbey burned. 

Raiders stormed the abbey and murdered all they could find, pillaging the holy relics and desecrating the sacred spaces. 

In their hiding place, the child silently raged, calling down the goddess’ wrath with every curse their sheltered mind could summon, and when they went unanswered, they felt the chill of the everlasting winter upon their skin for the first time in their life.

They waited there for days, mentally screaming for their beloved goddess to reach down and save her devoted servants, mind scrabbling frantically for every prayer they ever learned. 

To no avail.

Eventually the raiders left, having picked the abbey clean, and the child crept from their hiding place, knelt beside the charred corpse of their mother, father, and sister, and wept. 

They howled and raged like they hadn’t been able to when they were cramped in the tiny hidey-hole, and the snow that had always seemed so friendly and welcoming fell cold and harsh against their skin. 

They stayed in the abbey for months, half-starving and almost feral until a caravan that frequently stopped at abbey pulled in and froze in horror at the scene. 

They left with the travelers, allowing themself to be bundled up in warmer clothes and blankets against the suddenly unforgiving winter. 

It took them a while, but they eventually prayed again.

They gave thanks at the first touch of frost and sang hymns in blizzards. But they never again cried out in fear and anguish for the aid of their goddess. 

They grew stronger, grew harder, like living oak sheathed in ice. They grew skilled with blades, the cold metal lending them comfort as they train themself mercilessly and begin hunting down the raider that destroyed their home. 

It takes them years.

Slowly, as they meet people that serve other gods, their faith wanes and begins to fade entirely. 

They watch devotees call to their gods for aid, watched them do impossible things in the names of their deities, even saw gods appear to their servants and bless them. 

They weren’t sure if their goddess was a myth entirely, or simply uncaring, but after years of silence, they decided that if the goddess of winter didn’t want them, they didn’t need the goddess.

There were no more hymns, and first frost only brought a taste of bitterness to the mouth that once praised it’s arrival. 

They killed their first man at 15. 

They killed two more in quick succession over the next six months, and this launched a 12 year killing spree.

Their eyes got harder and more psychotic, and the phrase “for the love of god, spare me!” made them all the more murderous. 

When everyone who had ruined their life was dead or dying, they had gained a reputation for a person that could deal out revenge and specialized in eliminating those that claimed protection from the gods. They had few friends and far fewer loved ones. They cared nothing for the gods and even less for the goddess that had abandoned them. 

They were 37, and had waded through blood enough to drown a city. They were corded with muscle and their voice was hoarsened and terrifying from a scar that carved across their throat. In fact, their entire body was covered in ropey, whitened reminders of things that should have killed them, but hadn’t. 

They had retired to a quiet island, covered in soft sand and lush, verdant forests.They built a home away from other people, but close enough to afford the villages some protection from raiders and pirates. They were never going to lose another home on account of their own inability ever again. 

The climate was warm and comfortable, but still they felt cold to the marrow--no matter how far they traveled they still could not escape the winter that had settled into their bones. 

It was on a warm, sunny day that their life changed for the last time. 

They were reclining on sun-warmed stones, lazily fishing in the shoals, when they felt frost against their skin. 

Cursing bitterly, they threw away their pole and jolted to feet, withdrawing their sword in a fluid graceful motion. 

There, walking unhurriedly down the beach towards them, was a divinely beautiful woman. She was entirely unclothed, her pale skin glowing in the sunlight that had no effect on the frost radiating from her. 

All she touched was encased in a layer of ice, even her hair seemed to be a waterfall frozen in motion, lips red as holly berries and above them, merry mistletoe-green eyes. 

A sob wrenched from their ruined throat as the goddess stopped before them. 

“**Hello, Arri’o**.”

Vision blurred, the sword slipped from nerveless fingers into the sand, and they wrapped their arms around themself. 

“How  _ dare _ you!” They screamed the words that were choked with tears. 

“How dare you show yourself to me now? Look at me! I am tattered and ruined, and my soul is nothing but a wretched husk! How dare you show yourself to me now, when I am  this ! Where were you when I was new, and could love you? _Where were you when I needed you_!”

They screamed their ragged voice raw, they dropped to their knees in the sand, body convulsed with sobs. 

A sigh answered them. 

“**Arri’o, beloved child of mine. I could not come, because there was still summer in your soul**.”   
The goddess reached out and clasped their shoulders in frosty hand, an infinite love and a vast sorrow awash in her eyes.

“**I cannot exist in a heart where there is no winter**.”


End file.
